


Humor without Laughter

by Vampowerment



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Arkham Asylum, Character Analysis, Character Study, Dialogue-Only, Gen, Recovery, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:14:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23952883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vampowerment/pseuds/Vampowerment
Summary: Harley reflects on her relationship with Joker, her attempts to "save" him, and how he never really loved her at all. Batman is silent as Harley speaks, emotional burnout and a new sense of clarity fueling her as she pours her heart out to him without a fight. She's done fighting; she just wants out of their sick game once and for all.
Relationships: Deals critically with Joker (DCU)/Harleen Quinzel, Harleen Quinzel & Bruce Wayne, Joker (DCU)/Bruce Wayne, Pamela Isley & Harleen Quinzel
Comments: 3
Kudos: 48





	Humor without Laughter

**Author's Note:**

> content warnings for forceful drugging (à la White Knight), non-romanticized discussion of abuse, and mentions of vomit

Y’know, Bats? I always blamed you. All the horrible things he’d done I could look past, I knew it was in his nature, I knew that was just how he was. Hell, I saw it as my fault. If he hit me it was because I hadn’t reached him, I hadn’t pulled the humanity forward from the depths of his mind and I just needed to work harder. If he laughed at my pain, I laughed too; it was funny that I wanted to save him and just ended up getting hurt myself. I knew he saw that, he sees everything.

He’s really smart, y’know. That’s part of why I fell for him. I saw the burning intelligence in his eyes, with every small motion he made. The other doctors all called him crazy and didn’t elaborate, or they called him outdated, offensive terms, and wired him up for some EST. He acts like he doesn’t mind, but that’s not entirely true. He thinks it’s funny, he’s a genius and no one sees it, and so they basically torture him. Karma for what he does to others, I guess, but even now it makes my skin crawl. 

The fact he sees and understands everything is what makes everything so funny to him. He sees every part of life as a setup for a punchline he sees bright and clear. He wants you to see it too, Bats, and when you do, he looks happier than I could ever hope to make him. He cares about you. He genuinely, deeply cares about you, and I hated it. Every ounce of compassion I saw in him, everything I fought for, was not something I could ever hope to reach. All of the abuse I put up with, physical and emotional, in the hopes of reaching that man I saw behind the grin when I was first his psychiatrist, it’s all been for nothing. 

Y’know, I can endure the pain. I wasn’t deluding myself when I left my life as a doctor to follow a sadistic maniac into a life of crime, I knew he would hurt me, but I thought it was just the price I had to pay to save him from himself, for us to get some happily ever after. I wanted it so bad that I got really into drafting up concepts for some sort of drug to force his brain to heal. I had Pam help me, she’s much better at chemistry than I am, even if I know more about neurology than her. She agreed because she knew that if I wouldn’t leave him, she could at least help me win. She used that word and I didn’t think I liked it, but she was right; I was trying to win this sick mind game. He’d made me enough of a loser already, I just desperately wanted to come out on top.

We finished the project. I didn’t know Ives put in pheromones until after I forced the pills down his throat. I’m not proud of it, he was a choking mess and honestly was nearly frothing at the mouth. I’d never seen that much rage in his eyes. He must not have gotten the joke. Y’see, I’m his doctor, and I was finally treating him. Obviously I was violating HIPAA, having relations with a patient and forcing experimental drugs down their throat is a line I never thought I would cross, but it isn’t like any of his other doctors followed the guideline. I know, that’s a fallacy, but forgive me if I’m beyond caring about semantics. 

Joker passed out for a few minutes, and when he came to, with wide eyes, he asked about you. He threw up on himself, and couldn’t stand up; apparently, temporarily muting the parts of his brain responsible for his humor and sadism had adverse side effects. He asked about you again. I told him I cured him and he called me a monster. I can’t say that wasn’t justified, but takes one to make one. He said he needed your help, he said nothing was funny but he hadn’t the energy for rage, so he was empty and the emptiness hurts. He needed you to fill it. He didn’t make any kind of innuendo or joke there, and I couldn’t find the words to reply. Tears started to well in his eyes. I’ve seen him tear up from laughter, I’ve seen him tear up when gazing upon an especially campy death trap, I’ve seen him tear up when looking at you passed out on the floor, but I have never seen him tear up like this. We stayed in silence long enough for the tears to drip off his chin before he broke it.

“Don’t delude yourself into thinking this is anything but revenge.” He said sharply, voice darker and more mirthless than I’d ever heard it. “I have done heinous things. I know this, even when it’s all hilarious I still know this. I am aware of who I am, what I am, and I stay this way because I like it.” He stumbled to his feet, bracing himself on the back of the chair, glare still directed at me coldly. “It’s fun. It gets his attention. It makes me feel something, it makes him feel something, and when he feels something, I feel something more. I know your whole goal has been trying to fix me, that you think love will make it better, that I will fight against my nature and become a pathetic shell of my former glory all for the sake of love. I always found it funny. You thought you were being selfless, that you were some sort of martyr, but all this time you have been pursuing a selfish delusion. The truth is, I am the way I am because of love. I love what I do, I love to share laughter with Gotham, with him, and I loved corrupting Arkham’s finest and making her their shame. I thought it would be hilarious to turn you into an inmate, pit you against your coworkers, make you align with and see the reason of the maddest man there. I was right. It was oh so satisfying getting to play the long game with subtle manipulation for once, leading you on just enough to make you fight for me but not enough to keep you satisfied. I kept you around, alive, because I thought it was hilarious. I admit, you started as an experiment, a personal project to pass the time, but then you became a useful asset. Honestly? It was more than that. You genuinely became a friend to me.” He makes a wheezy, choking sound, unable to properly laugh. “Your drug has blocked me from finding it funny, but I can still see the humor. I must admit, I prefer the theatrics, but having them completely drained from me makes getting my point across easier, even if I know if I was of my normal mind I would not want to. To put it simply, I never loved you, Harleen, and never will love you, but I did, against all odds, genuinely grow to like you. You know my diagnosis; lay it on in the simple terms, doc!”

“A sociopathic narcissist with mild psychosis.” I managed to say through my incredibly shaken state. I felt light headed and nauseous, I don’t know how I was still on my feet.

“And you know that means I have trouble connecting with or valuing ANYONE, right? I have only ever let two people in, and you should feel lucky to be on that list, even if you’re in second place. It might be hard to believe with all the lies and manipulation, but I am telling the truth now. That’s the funny part. I trust Ivy helped you out with this project? Figures. I feel her love potion bullshit trying to work its magic on me, but I’m stronger than that. It’s funny, I think she counted on it. I know she can engineer her poison around a sample of my tainted blood to make it actually work. She’s smart even if she’s a pain, so, honestly, I think she was counting on it making me honest about the types of feelings it is meant to evoke instead of creating new falsehoods. Smart of her. I just keep rambling and can’t stop. Next I’ll be talking about how badly I want to--”

“No.”

“--Batsy in his--”

“I don’t want to hear that.”

“--and I won’t even laugh. Hm. Now I wouldn’t have thought you were a prude with how quick you were to take off my straightjacket and everything underneath in your own place of employment. Now that was scandalous! How can a mentally ill clown say no to a doctor, especially when she cut the cameras. That’s certainly an ethical violation! I wonder where that Harley has gone? Not even letting me say one thing about the man’s Batcave? Oh, must be how aging is affecting you.”

“Stop.”

“Oh, hon, don’t fret, you don’t look a day over.. Uh how old are you? Geez this is awkward. I must have missed a lot of birthdays, but to be fair, you don’t know how old I am either!” Joker’s laugh rang out clear and quickly roared into a crescendo. The resurfacing mad delight in his eyes did not scare me as much as I thought it would. It was familiar, almost comforting in the face of the horrible truths he’d shared with me. Deep down I’d always known, the only real surprise was the fact he liked me at all. I guess I was right when I said his violent tendencies weren’t a real reflection of his feelings. After all, I’d watched how he acts with you. I wasn’t right when I thought I needed to endure it, when I thought that if you could keep stride with him, I needed to as well. It became clear to me that I was trying to save a man who didn’t want saving, one who wouldn't extend any of the same courtesy to me. I was just his fun project to pass the time in Arkham, but even still I can’t bring myself to hate him. It makes me sick that him admitting to genuinely liking me after all gave me butterflies. I left while he was on the floor laughing, covered in his own vomit.

I let myself get captured, sure, but I’m not going to give you the address to his safehouse, no matter how much you ask. I’ve betrayed his friendship enough for one day. Even if that’s all it ever was for him and all it will ever be, that’s still a lot for him, y’know? I don’t blame you anymore, I can’t even make myself blame  _ him _ . I don’t think I blame myself, none of what he did to me was justified and I can’t let myself get back into that mindset, but the fact I didn’t see through it… The fact I didn’t LET myself see through it because I was so blinded by love… You can handle him better than I ever could. He actually loves you, y’know. I always knew that. I think you do too. I want you two to be happy. I hate that I still care about him, but I don’t know if I’ll ever stop. I will keep my distance now, at least. I won’t let myself get swept away by him again. Hold me to that, Bats. If I ever go back, please tell me that he only loves you. Don’t let me ignore that. I want you to make him happier than I ever could, and to keep me the fuck away.


End file.
